As they moved briskly down the corridor, Madeline’s eyes were wide. It was a modern hospital in every sense of the word, with the same smell of antiseptic and soap and sickness as every other hospital she had ever been in. Nurses, orderlies, and patients moved here and there, and the intercom chimed and called for this doctor or that doctor. As they approached the elevators, a Pink Lady smiled at them. Madeline felt as if she had somehow been thrust back twenty years in time.

While they were waiting, Madeline suddenly pointed to her left wrist. “What’s this?”

“That’s your wrist computer,” Mrs. Carter said, anticipating the next question. “Everyone in Shalev has one.” She held up her own arm, and the Pink Lady did the same.

“Wrist computer?”

“Yes, it’s like a watch, but more. Much more.”

“But why—”

“Mrs. Lloyd,” the nurse interjected, “I know this is all a little overwhelming to you, but if you’ll just be patient for a few more minutes, Dr. Gould will explain it all to you. Just be patient.”

Dr. Gould, a short, balding man, was dressed in green operating robes and hat, with a surgical mask hanging around his neck along with a stethoscope. He smiled at Madeline as Mrs. Carter wheeled her up, but the smile was brief and only touched the surface of his face.

“How do you do, Mrs. Lloyd. I’m Dr. Gould.” He nodded to Mrs. Carter. “Thank you, nurse.”

Mrs. Carter smiled at Madeline quickly and disappeared back around the corner.

Before the doctor could speak, Madeline’s anxiety took control. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “Why am I here?”

“Mrs. Lloyd, our time is relatively short at the moment, so I’ll get right to the point. A full explanation will be given to you later. But briefly, as an incoming citizen of Shalev, you’ve undergone what we call implantation.”

“Implantation?”

“Yes. A tiny piece of electronic equipment has been implanted at the base of your skull. Please,” he said, catching her hand as it jerked upward, “be careful of the dressing.”

Gingerly she raised her arm and touched the bandage at the hairline of her neck, staring at him as she explored it. “But why?”

“That will be explained later, as I said. It’s standard procedure for all citizens. Your children are also undergoing this operation.”

“What?” She started up out of the chair, but he pushed her back down firmly.

“It’s a minor operation. I assure you they’re all right. In fact, your two oldest daughters are already awake and doing fine.”

“My two oldest—” She stumbled to a halt, her eyes focusing on the surgical mask that hung at his throat. A sense of horror more numbing than the sedation was crushing down on her, and she felt a sudden clamminess down her spine. “Who gave you permission to operate on my children?”